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Oh, to be done with it!
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You have never been in love Until you’ve seen the stars Reflect in the reservoir, And it seems your head is in the clouds above, You’ve got the ways of a woman in love – So you get ready, you get all dressed up To go nowhere in particular, Back to work or…
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It’s my ninth day in Greece, and life is slow.
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There are delicious things piled on the countertop, And dripping down your neckline, Where my eyes are picking cherries, bunny, And I’ll love you every second of it.
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A bagel with cream cheese, Warm jumper, chilly weather, Iranian pears from the corner shop It’s the little things, flour, sugar, salt, molasses And suddenly nothing fits quite right Are these months not scornful?
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I was getting a blowout the other day, and asked the woman doing my hair if she owns the business.
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I realise my mistake at around 3am, when my limbs are starched flat on the bed but in my head sets off a cut, sparking wire that’s jumping around and making my heart thump and stop.
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I’m sitting in a massive bedroom - massive, that is, compared to the size of my old one - surrounded by bin bags and boxes full of my stuff.
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I shall keep it brief: Copenhagen is a wonderful city, but I am a silly girl.
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Uninspired!